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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22396951">do you think love can bloom even on a volleyball court?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gealbhan/pseuds/gealbhan'>gealbhan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>ADHD Kuroo, Autistic Kenma, Feelings Realization, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Metal Gear References, otasune as a plot device</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 09:33:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,738</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22396951</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gealbhan/pseuds/gealbhan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know, we’re kind of like Snake and Otacon.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>108</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>do you think love can bloom even on a volleyball court?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i have been on a very self-indulgent streak recently and i just thought i'd continue it with this. if you aren't into mgs, parts of this probably won't make much sense. but really all you need to know about mgs (genuinely i wouldn't recommend it to anyone, but if you are already independently here, vibe with me. also kuroo and kenma both canonically play it and i have fully exploited that) is that snake and otacon are in love. and that all of the women deserve better but that's a whole other thing.</p><p>title naturally adapted from the iconic quote "do you think love can bloom even on a battlefield?" --hal "otacon" emmerich, mgs1 (1998). this is barely edited, i just needed to stream all of my thoughts directly into a word document, so apologies for anything glaringly off. enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kenma is sitting in front of his TV, legs folded neatly beneath him and not a care in the world, when the door to his room bursts open.</p><p>His parents would have at least knocked, so he knows without looking up that it’s Kuroo. He doesn’t bother with a greeting, figuring Kuroo will have the first word, and he’s proved right when he hears, “Kenma! You have a test this week, right? I’m here to study with you.”</p><p>Kenma’s gaze, not even having the decency to be guilty, flits from his course materials, abandoned on his desk several feet away, to the controller in his hand. His in-game Life gauge is running low (not to mention his real-life Psyche gauge—he’s always thought of his social and mental capacity in terms of health bars), so he fixes his attention back on the screen. Maybe Kuroo will see that he has important things to accomplish and leave.</p><p>No such luck. Kuroo steps further in, closing the door behind him (Kenma’s parents are too used to him to ever insist he keep the door open), and asks, “What are you playing?”</p><p>“<em>Metal Gear,”</em> says Kenma.</p><p>Kuroo leans in toward the screen, noting Solid Snake’s hair and clothing. “Oh, shit, <em>Guns of the Patriots</em>, huh?” He shakes his head. “You always play this one when you’re stressed about something.”</p><p>“Do not,” says Kenma on reflex.</p><p>“Do too.”</p><p>“Do not.”</p><p>“Do too.”</p><p>It would take too much effort away from the game to keep up this volley, so Kenma stops and fixes his attention back on the screen.</p><p>Kuroo sighs. “Well, you aren’t playing <em>Snake Eater</em>, so it’s not that bad.”</p><p>Kenma glances, this time actually guilty, away. He’d considered playing the 3D re-release, if only to challenge himself to set a new record for the boss fight with The Boss, but in the end, the PS3 had been closer.</p><p>“What’s going on, though?”</p><p>“Nothing,” says Kenma, which is technically true. Nothing in particular had gotten to him, no specific encounter that had him breaking down in public and bringing all sorts of attention to himself against his will. He’s just felt… off lately. “Playing seemed more interesting than schoolwork.”</p><p>“Doesn’t it always.” The explanation seems to placate Kuroo, who plops down beside Kenma.</p><p>“You don’t have to watch me play,” Kenma tells him.</p><p>“Do you actually mind me watching?” asks Kuroo, blinking, and Kenma glances away, which is an answer in and of itself. His parents interrupting tends to break his focus for an hour, but he’s used enough to Kuroo’s presence that his attention span won’t stray much. “Okay, then I’ll stay. You’re better at these games than I am, anyway.”</p><p>Kenma doesn’t deny it. More than once, Kuroo has come over only to play <em>Metal Gear</em>, and Kenma has watched from his bed as, instead of sneaking around like the game (very pointedly, in some cases) recommends, Kuroo has shot his way through any and all conflicts. It’s not that he’s bad at them—he just has his own way of doing things, and when it comes to video games, that way is the most brute force option possible. Even Kenma sometimes resorts to such methods when he gets bored.</p><p>“Probably because you’re used to sneaking around and staying out of view of other people, huh?”</p><p>“I guess.” Kenma’s never put too much conscious thought into his affinity for stealth games. They’re only another genre, and a more challenging one than most at that, and the elaborate settings often keep Kenma from connecting them to his own life. But he supposes navigating crowds is kind of like sneaking through government facilities sometimes.</p><p>Kuroo doesn’t try to hold up the conversation (as lacking in substance as it had been to begin with) for much longer. Every now and then, he’ll comment on Kenma’s gameplay—“Nice shot” and “Ooh, so close” and stuff like that. This kind of flattery doesn’t do much for Kenma, but it <em>is</em> a bit more comfortable than sitting in near-silence.</p><p>After a while, out of the corner of his eye, Kenma notices Kuroo getting fidgety—tugging at his dull nails, his jeans, the drawstring of his hoodie, the carpet; adjusting his sitting position, spreading out before settling back into a kneel; rubbing the back of his neck; generally wiggling, restless and somewhat unsettling but harmless. It’s when he rolls up his sleeve to prod at a volleyball-inflicted bruise on his inner arm that Kenma pauses the game and turns to him.</p><p>“You can leave.” It turns out harsher than intended, and Kenma glances away. “Or use one of my stim tools, if you want.”</p><p>“No, no, it’s all right,” says Kuroo, waving his hands. “I was just thinking.” He pauses for a moment, drumming his nails on his thighs, and Kenma is about to actually point out something for him to hold when he says, “You know, we’re kind of like Snake and Otacon.”</p><p>Kenma’s only response, for a long moment, is to stare. He’s not making complete eye contact, gaze fixed somewhere on Kuroo’s forehead, but without the game to worry about, he has all the time he needs to process.</p><p>For most of his life, Kenma has viewed reality through fiction-tinted glasses. He doesn’t like people, and he doesn’t understand them. So in his younger years, he’d turned to fiction—particularly video games, since they provided physical stimulation as well as mental, something to do with his hands—to see how he was expected to behave, to then break the unspoken rules of social interactions often anyway. He doesn’t like sticking out, but he doesn’t like putting in the effort to make himself different, either. In the end, then, his observations had done little but provide him with standards by which to measure other people up to and new ways to speak.</p><p>This is, to his recollection, the first time Kuroo has flipped that dynamic. “How so?” he asks instead of pointing it out.</p><p>Kuroo blinks, as though not expecting the question. “How? Well, we’re sort of partners, right? Even if we’re not Metal Gear-fighting pseudo-terrorists.”</p><p>“I think they’re counterterrorists, technically,” says Kenma, which goes ignored.</p><p>“And you’re a quiet, awkward nerd who gets really passionate about geeky stuff and makes all the plans.”</p><p>Kenma frowns. “Why am I Otacon in this situation?” he asks—he doesn’t care much about this conversation, but he wants to nitpick anyway. “You’re the one who’s actually interested in science. And you come up with plenty of schemes yourself.”</p><p>“Sure, sure, but, like, chemistry and biology are completely different than engineering. Besides, if I made a nuclear war machine, it would be on purpose.” Now there’s a scary thought. Kuroo thinks for another moment, hand on his chin, before springing back up with triumph. “Plus, I’m not a dog person. And he had that thing for Sniper Wolf because she was nice to dogs.”</p><p>“That would count me out too, then.”</p><p>“…Damn. Okay, ignore that. Flawed reasoning on my part. I actually like dogs a lot, anyway.”</p><p>Kuroo can’t seem to think of anything else to disprove Kenma’s suggestion, given how he stays silent as Kenma continues playing. Kenma prompts, resuming the game, “What would make you Snake, then?”</p><p>“Fucked up hair,” is Kuroo’s automatic response. “Seriously, look at that mullet.”</p><p>Kenma has devoted a non-insignificant amount of time to thinking about the mullet. It is, indeed, so ugly it warps back around to being kind of impressive, much like Kuroo’s hair. “Otacon’s hair is pretty bad too,” he points out.</p><p>“It’s just really greasy. If he shampooed it once, it would probably be fine. When was the last time you washed your hair, by any chance?”</p><p>“Last night.”</p><p>He doesn’t ask for Kuroo’s own answer, but Kuroo provides it anyway: “As for me—” he thinks for a moment “—two mornings ago. Ah.” They stare at each other in silence for a moment. “Well, Snake’s shitty hair is probably mostly grease too, since he’s in the field all the time.”</p><p>“Probably,” says Kenma with a shrug.</p><p>“Oh, and,” says Kuroo, bolstered, “he’s the big action hero, who actually does most of the footwork and is skilled in offense and defense alike, but Otacon is the support—without Otacon, at least in the later games, most of what he does wouldn’t be possible. Like your toss and plans. Subtle and pretty behind-the-scenes, but irreplaceable.”</p><p>“Oh.” Voice faint, Kenma lowers his head so that his hair blocks out his peripheral vision. “Snake isn’t really replaceable, either,” he notes. “He’s the main character.”</p><p>Kuroo guffaws. His sharp laughter had made Kenma jump the first few times, but now it’s as unremarkable as birds chirping in the first weeks of spring. Or perhaps it’s remarkable for that exact reason. “Yeah, him and, like, three other identical dudes.”</p><p>“But he’s the only one playable in Smash.”</p><p>“Oh, shit, you got me again.” Kuroo hunches forward with his hand dramatically over his chest, still snickering a little. “Besides, Snake is playable in three games and Big Boss just is in one. And Liquid and Solidus are evil or whatever, so they don’t really count. Hey, maybe you’re Liquid, actually—same hair, sort of,” says Kuroo, gesturing to Kenma’s roots, which he should touch up again soon.</p><p>“Yeah, kind of. I should replay the original <em>Metal Gear Solid</em> after this,” adds Kenma under his breath, mostly to himself. “I could try to speedrun it, maybe.”</p><p>“Hey, don’t think I’ve forgotten studying,” says Kuroo, elbowing Kenma in the side. Kenma halfheartedly counters with his own elbow. “I can and will convince my dad to let me spend the night here. You haven’t failed a test since junior high, and you’re not about to now.”</p><p>“Hrm…” Kenma will get to it sometime in the next couple of hours, really, but he wants to get to a good stopping point before he commits himself to something else. He jabs at the controls to have something to do with his hands. “Back to Snake and Otacon—one thing.” Kuroo nods. A cutscene with Sunny is playing—one Kenma has seen countless times, as with all of the cutscenes in this game, but he watches idly anyway. “Aren’t they implied to be in love?”</p><p>“Hmm… I wouldn’t say <em>implied</em> as much as probably not the developers’ intention, but obvious anyway—I mean, in this one, they’re basically married with an adopted kid, and the <em>partners</em> thing is already—” Kuroo’s visible eye widens when he realizes what Kenma is hinting at. “Oh. Huh.”</p><p>Kenma opens his mouth, ready to say <em>so we aren’t really like them at all, then</em>, but something stops him. A strange feeling in his gut he’s been experiencing recently. The very reason why he’d sat down to play instead of studying, in fact—and, come to think of it, it had arisen then because he’d glanced over at his books and thought something along the lines of <em>Kuroo will help me with that later</em>. It had hit him a number of times over the past few months during practice, too, whenever he and Kuroo pulled off an attack or Kuroo laid his hand over Kenma’s during his obnoxious pre-game speech.</p><p><em>O</em> <em>h,</em> Kenma thinks, tilting his head to look over at Kuroo, game all but abandoned. His eyes narrow, but he isn’t seeing Kuroo in a different light. He’s the same Kuroo Kenma had been forced to befriend years ago (if taller, something that had unsettled Kenma as much as any drastic change but been ultimately inconsequential except on the volleyball court and under low ceilings ). The only major difference being— <em>I’m in love with him.</em></p><p>It’s a rather blithe observation, as neutral a thought as if Kenma were sizing up an opponent’s emotions rather than his own. Self-awareness has never been Kenma’s strong suit, at least in regards to his emotions. He’s perhaps too aware of his own presence in the world, as well as others’, but internally speaking, it’s not uncommon for him to go until a feeling is gone to realize what it had been. He’s not unaware of his reputation as outright emotionless—it’s hard to display how he feels when he doesn’t recognize it half the time.</p><p>Not to mention that he has little experience with this sort of thing even through a fictional lens. Dating sims aren’t his favorite—he’s played a couple here and there, but their repetitive nature and limited mechanics combined with scant plots, if any, haven’t captivated him—and romance in other games often falls flat. He glances up at the screen, grimacing at how the deepest relationship in this game isn’t even written as a romance.</p><p>Altogether, Kenma guesses it’s not that surprising he hadn’t realized the depth of his affection until this moment. On some level, he’d known he loved Kuroo (if not quite in this way) in the simple way children decide such things, but knowing and admitting that, especially aloud, are very different things.</p><p>Had he realized it in any other situation, Kenma thinks he could go the rest of his life without admitting it as long as Kuroo didn’t say anything first. Confrontation is not his strong suit, and while he’s grown more outgoing in the past year, this is still far from comfortable ground. He’s growing exhausted at the very thought of a real confession. How bothersome.</p><p>But now, he’s been silent for far too long, and so he finds himself speaking up first. “I guess,” he says slowly, “we’re not that different from them after all, then.”</p><p>He tries not to glance over, hair blocking out his vision again, but he can almost feel how Kuroo freezes. “Hm?”</p><p>“At least, I’m not.” Kenma feels his mouth twist at the thought of saying the words <em>I love you</em>, as simple as they seem, but he steels himself. “I—”</p><p>“Wait, wait, wait!” cuts in Kuroo, waving his hands, and Kenma sags with relief even as he turns toward Kuroo with a questioning look. Kuroo, now twisting his hoodie drawstring into a knot around his finger, almost looks more uncomfortable than Kenma feels. “You don’t have to say anything like that now. I definitely wouldn’t mind hearing it someday, if you’re comfortable with it, but now seems like a bad time.”</p><p>Kenma tilts his head to the side. He’s not sure if he’s being rejected or not—he thinks it would be a lot more obvious if he were, but his main experience with this is through cheesy dramas that are in no way true to real life.</p><p>“I would say it back, just so you know,” says Kuroo, probably seeing the lack of comprehension in Kenma’s face. It’s kind of unnerving how, for the most part, Kenma is bad at reading people and predicting their actions outside of volleyball, but Kuroo can identify his expressions like it’s nothing. “But not while you’re playing <em>Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots</em>. I have <em>some</em> decency, you know.”</p><p>“Is that what we’re calling it,” says Kenma blankly, not even employing the effort to turn it into a question. If his Psyche gauge had begun depleting when Kuroo stepped in, it’s hovering somewhere around halfway at this point, wobbling up and down with every further word of Kuroo’s.</p><p>With a snort, Kuroo shifts back to face the TV. “Oh, you died.”</p><p>“What?” Kenma turns—to his dismay, the <em>Mission Failed</em> screen is indeed on full display. “Ugh. I should have paused it.” Maybe he should take this as a hint to give up for the evening, but instead he hits <em>Continue</em>. “Yeah,” he adds, returning to their previous conversation. “Not while I’m playing.”</p><p>Kuroo leans against Kenma, pressing into his side. Added sensory input usually makes Kenma uncomfortable, but once he takes a moment to adjust, this is nothing but comforting. “Just so you know,” says Kuroo in an undertone, folding his arms as he rests his weight on Kenma, “this doesn’t save you from studying. Or coming to practice tomorrow because you’re sleep-deprived.”</p><p>“I know, I know,” says Kenma with a sigh. “You won’t mind watching me play for a little longer, though, right?”</p><p>“Obviously not.” There’s a little glee in Kuroo’s tone now. “We’re partners, after all—just like Snake and Otacon.”</p><p>Kenma huffs out a regretful breath, shaking his head, but he can’t help smiling as he raises the controller again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>just to note: this takes place circa 2012-13 (still WILD that we have a confirmed canon year, btw), which is why kuroo doesn't mention mgsv here. i so badly wanted to make some references to it, but alas, 'twas not to be.</p><p>anyway, thanks so much for reading!! if you have time to spare, comments &amp; kudos are always appreciated &lt;3</p><p><a href="http://twitter.com/withlittlequill">twitter</a> | <a href="http://oikawalovebot.tumblr.com">tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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